Neglected Space
by unifilar
Summary: In order to reach her full potential as a witch, Bonnie made a deal with Damon to let her practice her craft at the historic Salvatore mansion. But she was not exactly prepared for the consequences.
1. Neglected Space

**Author's Note: **Ok, I doubt anyone is going to be as excited about this story as I am, but it's literally been all I have thinking about for last week. It was a small idea that took hold in my brain and now it wants to be this big, multi-chaptered story. I've never successfully completed a full series with a steady plotline, but I'm determined to make this one my first. When I was first writing this, I wasn't expecting this story to be as big as it now is in my mind, so this chapter is going to seem light compared to the others, I imagine. Not that my chapters are going to be super long, but they're going to have more substance and the timeline will be a lot more clear. I'm super excited to write for Stefan, Damon, and Bonnie, but I'm secretly dreading writing Alaric and Elena in future chapters. Writing for those two is not my forte. This is be a very interesting journey for me as a fanfic writer, so I hope you all enjoy!

I know I haven't updated my other stuff yet, but I will. I've been working on those too, but this story would NOT let me do anything else. I also want to mention again that I cannot properly express my gratitude toward the people who have already reviewed my stuff and those who will (hopefully) review my stories in the future. You've all been so wonderful and helpful. You're all amazing, sincerely. Thank you so much. I really hope you guys like this! As always, I own nothing of Vampire Diaries.

* * *

><p><em>If you'll be good to me,<em>  
><em>I'll be good to you.<em>  
><em>I'm amidst.<em>  
><em>I could be the best decision you ever made, a beacon, your peaceful corner.<em>

- Neglected Space by Imogen Heap

* * *

><p>Bonnie had a certain gait about her. Her steps were always quick, hurried, and a bit frustrated- at least, that's how they always sounded when she was walking toward him.<p>

She also smelled differently. Her blood, that is. Witch's blood has a poignant aroma about it, threatening in its power. It was as if the very smell of her blood was a defense against vampires. A weak defense, but one just the same. When he had tasted her blood ages ago (because it definitely seemed like ages, even though time often passed by like blinks to him), it had been bitter, leaving an acrid aftertaste that he had immediately wanted to spit out. Another defense.

That was Bonnie Bennett for you. All defenses up, all the time, even the ones that she didn't even know about. The girl was like a walking Fort Knox.

And she was at his doorstep. He had heard, smelt, and sensed her coming for some time now, so he opened the door just as she was about to knock. She did not like that, he noted with a grin. She never liked being predictable to him. With a scowl, she addressed him.

"Is Stefan home?" she asked, trying to peer around his shoulder. Clearly, she was impatient and had no intention of talking to him.

Perfect.

"Nope. He's at Elena's. To what do I owe this cheery visit?" he asked, smiling toothily, exaggerating a faux-friendly demeanor. She eyed him suspiciously.

"Is he really not here?"

"Bonnie, would I lie to you?" They took a moment to consider that, leading Damon to grin knowingly. "Don't answer that. Come in and see yourself if you don't believe me."

He stepped aside just in time, for she was going to stride inside with or without him in the way. Today she was looking particularly determined, but unhappily so. Like she had made a decision that she didn't like. Damon watched her as she did a cursory search for Stefan, waiting until she realized he was, in fact, gone. She was wearing a light brown overcoat with the collar turned out, exposing her neck to the cold and his wandering eye. He always noticed that she never wore anything overly conservative around him, even though most people were often subconsciously traumatized after a vampire bite and covered up most of their skin to compensate. With Bonnie, it didn't seem to faze her.

"Stefan?" she called as she stood in the center of the living room, looking around in mild desperation. When no one replied to her, her shoulders sagged in disappointment.

"Looks like you're stuck with me. What can your friendly neighborhood vampire do for you?" he asked, crossing his arms in a business-like fashion, but a smirk playing on his lips. Bonnie hesitated, then seemed to examine him for authenticity. She can be incredibly scrutinizing when she wanted to be, and Damon had to resist the urge to move to break her gaze.

After several moments of her consideration, she gave herself a slight nod, as if for reassurance, and looked Damon in the eye.

"You two have a lot of history in this mansion. A lot of old books, relics, and tools. You even have your own collection of herbs like vervain," she began, and Damon knit his brow in confusion. He didn't see where she was going with this. She moved away from him, gesturing to the room around them. "I bet in this room alone, you have artifacts from the very founding of the Mystic Falls."

"We do," Damon agreed, following her. "But what do you want with it?"

She pivoted on her heel to face him, her eyes stern. He knew that look. It was the look that meant she was about to ask something from him. It was so interesting to witness because there was need, regret, anger, yet a very clear dependency in that look. She hated asking for help, especially from him, but she would not ask if she did not feel it absolutely necessary.

"Witchcraft involves items of power, but things don't get power unless they have history. There's a lot of history here," she repeated, gesturing again, but not looking away from him. "There's also a lot of knowledge about how that history became powerful, and how that can be used in my craft. You have the supplies and instruments to build the framework for spells, even." She took a breath, settling her weight on her back foot. "Basically, this mansion is every witches' dream house. And I want to take advantage of it."

Made sense. No witch before Bonnie had been on good terms with the Salvatore brothers since they became vampires, and thus all of the mansion's valuable knowledge and resources had never been used for magic. Being around such powerful supernatural beings had probably only reinforced its significance. Since Bonnie was (somewhat) their ally, it was only sensible that she want to benefit from that (probably temporary) cooperation by exploring their home and its secrets.

Completely understandable.

He was still going to be annoying as hell about it, though. Which was probably why she had wanted to talk to Stefan.

"So, you're telling me that you want to ransack our humble abode for your own selfish, witchy needs?" he asked, tapping her on the nose with an index finger. She jerked her head back, frowning.

"It's not selfish. The better I get at being a witch, the safer we all are."

Damon's eye widened in fake realization as he snapped his fingers, like he had missed something obvious.

"Oh, right, I forgot you're the only one protecting the town."

"_Damon_," she said through gritted teeth, "could you not be an intolerable jerk for like five seconds and let me do this? It hasn't been easy for me to ask, believe me. But since my grandmother died, I need all the help I can get in strengthening my powers."

Well. That shot of guilt was aimed directly at him, and while Damon was not one to succumb to his conscience often, he could not help but feel something within him cringe. Her grandmother's death had been sort of his fault, back when his obsession with Katherine made him into a soulless prick. He supposed that since he had changed a lot since then, it was only natural that his past actions- having been once enacted without a second thought- came back to haunt him.

Especially when Bonnie _made_ them haunt him.

"You had to pull the 'dead grandmother' card," Damon muttered, mostly to himself, but a hot glare from Bonnie told him she heard it too. "I guess I can allow you to poke around, since I'm so generous."

"Yeah, you're the epitome of charity," Bonnie said with a smirk. And, suddenly, an idea struck him with such force he thought he was going to stumble. It took only a second for the inspiration to take form. _The best idea I've ever had._

"But under one condition."

Bonnie's expression instantly darkened.

"I think that makes it the opposite of charity, Damon, if you're asking for something in exchange."

"It's not Christmas yet, Bonnie," he returned, saying her name with mock affection, as if they were just having a playful conversation. "I can't be handing out favors for every witch that comes to my doorstep. Not all of them are as fun as you."

"Fine, whatever. What do you want?"

Damon's smile was too wide, he knew. But he couldn't help it. He was giddy with excitement over what was about to happen.

"You, Bonnie Bennet, have to be nice to me while you're here."

That stumped her entirely. Her jaw fell slack, and shock shone clearly in her eyes.

"I…what?"

"You have to be nice. To me."

He let this sink in. Bonnie seemed dumbstruck, opening and closing her mouth several times before being able to form actual words.

"Nice? You want me to be…nice?"

"Yup. No aneurysm tricks, no witty barbs, not even a withering look. I'm doing you a big service here, letting you manipulate priceless objects of the Salvatore family. I expect something worthwhile in return."

He was careful to tinge his words with a serious inflection, so she knew that while this was a humorous request, it was one he was intending to uphold. Bonnie seemed to detect this, for she regarded him anew, the sense of a challenge making her confident.

"Fine. I can do that," she stated, nodding. Then the corner of her mouth tugged up into a lighter expression, different than what he usually saw from her. "I'm normally a nice person, Damon. I'm just mean around you."

"Lucky me," Damon said, returning the smile with a softer one of his own. He held out his hand. "So, do we have a deal, witch?"

Bonnie reached, but Damon pulled his hand back and left it poised in the air. He tilted his head doubtfully.

"You sure you can do this? In all the time that we've known each other, we've never really exchanged kind words," he pointed out. There had been only a few moments where they had been unexpectedly pleasant to each other at the time, but those were so rare that they hardly counted.

Bonnie rolled her eyes.

"Please, Damon. Of all the crap you've put me through, this is probably one of the least difficult to manage."

"Suit yourself," Damon said, grasping her palm in his. Her hand was warm and soft, not what he expected, but her handshake was firm and self-assured. He went to release her, but she held fast, surprising him.

"Thank you," she told him, the honesty forcing itself to become apparent, in spite of herself. "I really do appreciate this."

She let go, giving him one last look before turning to head down the hallway, as if she already had a destination in mind (which she probably did). Damon watched her turn the corner.

"Don't thank me yet," he muttered, smirking to himself.

* * *

><p>He had to strategize carefully, but languidly. If he acted too fast, he would scare Bonnie off too soon. Damon had already caught on- a full exploitation of all of the Salvatore resources would take well more than a day. She would be returning regularly, giving him ample opportunity to intrude on her research. After all, he had spent decades doing many things to stave off immortal boredom, but one of the most entertaining activities he had ever participated in was engaging Bonnie in heated conversation. It was always rewarding, in one way or another. Besides, he found himself actually curious as to the extent of her powers. It would be intriguing and useful to witness her work.<p>

But he couldn't just jump at the chance to bother her already. Better to lull her into a false sense of peace and security, let her think there was a truce between them when there probably never could be, not truly. Absently, he thought about how they would somehow always be at war.

Which wasn't necessarily a bad thing. It kept them both strong and alert.

"Bonnie's here?" called a voice from behind him. Damon had been so wrapped in his thoughts, he had not even heard Stefan come in. He turned away from the thriving fireplace, facing his brother.

"Yup. She's raiding the mansion for all it's worth. I told her you'd be against it, but she just went ahead and started tearing the place apart."

"Oh, shut up, Damon!" Bonnie called from the floor above, having been near the staircase, where Damon knew she would hear him. He smirked, merely shrugging at a still baffled Stefan as Bonnie hastily made her way down the stairs. She approached the pair, waving.

"Hey, Stefan," she greeted, smiling genially. Damon wondered, briefly, what it would be like to have a normal friendship with Bonnie like Stefan did. He mentally scoffed at the notion.

_It'd be as boring as hell._

"Hello, Bonnie. Not that I mind, but why are you over so late?"

"I tried to find you earlier, but you were at Elena's and Damon was the only one here," she said, and Stefan inclined his head sympathetically, as if he felt her pain of being stuck with Damon. "I talked to him about this, but of course I wanted to run it by you, too. I want to use the mansion for my magical research. It has a lot of the tools and books that I need, and since I've had some free time recently, I wanted to hone my skills. Reach my potential as a witch." Her smile was sheepish now, and she had her hands clasped together hesitantly. "Is that alright?"

"Of course it is," he said, nodding. "You're welcome here any time, Bonnie. Practicing your craft is important. I hope Damon hasn't troubled you while you're working?"

"No, he's been surprisingly good at giving me space," Bonnie said, grateful surprise in her voice.

Damon was beginning to feel the itch of agitation; it was like he wasn't even in the room, the way they were going on about him.

"It's because we worked out a little agreement," he piped up, walking toward them. Finally, they both looked at him, as if he had just entered the room. "Bonnie here has to be on her best behavior while she's using all of our stuff. Speaking of which," he drawled, rounding on Bonnie. "telling me to 'shut up' wasn't very nice, you know."

Bonnie looked startled, like she hadn't expected him to remember their deal. Recovering quickly, she shook her head.

"Force of habit," she confessed with an apologetic shrug. _That will do for now,_ Damon thought, _but she won't get off that easy next time._

"Wait," Stefan said, looking incredulous at the implications. "so _you_ agreed to be nice to _him_?" He gestured between Bonnie and Damon. The former eyed him with confusion.

"Yes, I did. I don't see why everyone thinks I can't be nice."

Stefan merely pressed his lips together, holding up his hands in concession. "Good luck with that, Bonnie. Just keep in mind I tried to just be civil with Damon for the better part of a century."

"And now we're closer than ever," Damon said cheerfully, punching his brother on the arm, a bit too hard. Stefan gave him a look, then raised his eyebrows at Bonnie in a 'See what I mean?' gesture.

"I can handle it," Bonnie assured him with a smile, looking to Damon as if he was going to contradict her. He just shrugged harmlessly.

"If you say so," Stefan said, amused, but Damon could see the hint of worry etched into the faint lines of his forehead. To anyone else, it would have been invisible. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"No, I actually just finished up," Bonnie said happily, enthused by her day's findings. She turned and walked to a small table near the entrance where a stack of three books sat, picking them up. "I'm just going to read these tonight and come back tomorrow for-…"

She was interrupted by Damon using his inhuman speed to cut her off at the door. Half stumbling into him, she pulled back and frowned. He jerked his head in Stefan's direction, for he knew what his brother was about to say.

"What?"

"I'm sorry, Bonnie, you can't take those out of the house," Stefan told her, still in the living room. She whirled around, unable to hide her annoyance. "We don't let our more historic property leave here. We can't protect it as well once it's out of the mansion, and some things are very valuable. We can't afford to let it fall into the wrong hands."

"I can protect a couple of books," Bonnie insisted, clearly insulted at the insinuation that she could not be trusted with their things.

"Don't take it personally," Damon said, making her direct a glare at him. His smile only grew wider. "Mystic Falls can be a spooky place. We don't want you getting mugged by some hooligan."

"You think I would let myself get _mugged_?" she asked, holding the books in one arm and placing her free hand on her hip, quirking a brow as if daring Damon to answer in the affirmative. He opened his mouth to offer a smart-aleck reply, but Stefan interjected, now at Bonnie's side.

"Damon's right. Please don't take this personally. You're a very powerful witch, but there are ancient supernatural beings out there that would do anything to gain any secrets about us. They would attack you without hesitation and without mercy. We can't put you in that kind of danger."

Bonnie stared at him, seeming to understand but unable to wipe the look of disbelief from her face. She glanced to Damon, who shrugged, but he met her gaze. He would never openly admit it, but he agreed with Stefan. It wasn't that the books were worth much to them, it was that Bonnie's life would be threatened immediately if she walked out their stronghold with some of their most priceless possessions. She wouldn't last an hour.

However, Bonnie seemed concerned about something else.

"But…" she faltered, looking down at the books, and then back up at Damon with the look of someone who suddenly discovered something awful about their circumstances. "A lot of my spells have to be conducted in the middle of the night, and they can take several hours to prepare…"

"You can stay the night, if you'd like. You can take all the time you need," Stefan offered, sounding unsure of what the issue was. Bonnie's eyes did not leave Damon's.

_She's figuring it out now,_ he thought, a smirk spreading across his face. _This means she's going to be spending _a lot _of time here._

"This will be fun," Damon informed her gleefully. "We can have a-..what do you girls call them? Oh, right. Slumber parties." He feigned inspiration and pointed toward the upstairs. "I think we have some sleeping bags in the attic."

Gradually, Bonnie's horrified realization had turned to bitter resolution. With a sigh, she shoved her books into his chest so he had to take them.

"I'll be back tomorrow," she mumbled, pushing past a much too pleased Damon. As she walked out, he held open the door.

"Don't forget our deal, roomie!" he shouted after her. The statement and nickname made her freeze momentarily, but she refused to look back at him. Instead, she quickened her pace. He watched her, satisfied, until she turned down the street, and he moved back to let Stefan close the door. He felt his brother casting him a wary look, but he turned around curtly and made his way up to his room. He didn't want a lecture right then.

Besides, there was a lot of preparing to do.


	2. Clear the Area

_No need to stay as it's always nothing._  
><em>But your eyes tell a whole other story, and I feel the weight of the world.<em>

_-_ Clear the Area by Imogen Heap

* * *

><p>As an avid reader, Bonnie loved to revisit classics. She must have read <em>Alice in Wonderland<em> two dozen times. But as a witch in training, Bonnie only liked to read books with new material for her to soak in.

She was in the right place.

The musty smell of old, crumbling pages and leather book covers imprinted itself in her nose, and she gladly breathed it with each inhale. She had kicked off her shoes at the doorway, enjoying the feel of the fine-threaded rugs and smooth wood flooring under her toes. With a gentle smile, she ran her fingers over the spines of a row of books, as if in a gesture of greeting.

_Hello again,_ she almost wanted to say.

It wasn't like Bonnie had a library of ancient texts at her disposal back at her house. Of course, she had the Grimoire and the texts that her grandmother left her, but that was more like the pile of books you find in a lost and found box rather than a library. To have countless bookshelves, scattered about a huge mansion, all to herself…it was exhilarating. It was what she always wanted. What her grandmother always wanted for her.

On her first day in the Salvatore household, she became familiar with these books especially. In her many visits here, she had seen or passed by this particular section on multiple occurrences, and that was when she first began wondering if the brothers would let her peruse their collection of goods. The possibility was enticing, and she soon found herself convinced that it was absolutely necessary if she wanted to further her studies as a witch.

That was months ago. It took her a while to work up the nerve to actually ask.

It wasn't that she thought the brothers would say no- she knew Damon probably would, but Stefan was always helpful and would most certainly say yes. The act of asking for a favor made her uneasy, since it would mean that she was in their debt. She would owe them. Which would make it harder to go against their wishes in the future, if she needed to.

_Which I probably will_, she told herself with an audible sigh. If the whole Klaus debacle had taught her anything, it was that no vampire could be trusted. Not even Stefan. Not even…

Bonnie closed her eyes for a moment, her head hanging, the weight of her thought ladening her mind.

_Caroline._

It was a terrible idea, that she could not trust her best friend. That, if Caroline was simply Compelled to do so, she would use all of the secrets Bonnie confided in her to kill her. To destroy everything she loved. Bonnie was not the closest friend Stefan had, but she had cared about him greatly. To see him in such a hollow, soulless state was one of the hardest things she ever had to witness. His eyes had been truly, completely dead- because even though vampires are not exactly living, Stefan's eyes always had a certain sheen to them, a spark that revealed the luminance of his humanity shining through. Caroline had it too; she always did.

Now that Stefan was back to his old self, the spark had returned, to Bonnie's relief. And while it seemed easy to want to go back to the way things were, a part of her held back. This was a common reaction, for Stefan's friends had all seen him at his worst, at his most ruthless, and the image was forever burned into their memories. Elena even was still wary, though her joy at having her beloved back was almost palpable whenever she and Stefan were in a room together. The smile on her face when she would just be watching him speak was inspiring- and a bit worrying for Bonnie. She had seen the soul-wrenching heartbreak that Elena had gone through. There was still a fear that hung above all of them, a fear that it could happen again, at any moment. Especially with Klaus still at large. But the relief masked the fear for now. They knew they needed to cherish the moments they had together now.

That was easier for some more than others. Bonnie's fear was overwhelming, and her relief at having Stefan back was fighting a losing battle.

_It had been so easy, _Bonnie thought. _Just a few words and Stefan was gone. We thought we lost him forever. We gave up on him. I even had to deal with the possibility of killing him, if it came down to it._

An unbidden shiver slipped into Bonnie's spine, and she snapped her eyes open.

_I'm done thinking about this. I'll cross that bridge when I come to it._

_Anyway._

The point was that she did not know when the Salvatore brothers' judgement would be impaired again, and if she owed them, it would add unnecessary guilt for if (and when) she had to stand against them. It was hard enough to have the bond of friendship between them still. It seemed like a small courtesy- to be able to peruse their libraries and items- but for Bonnie and the development of her witch powers, it was a huge step forward, and thus a gracious gesture on the Salvatore brothers' part.

The moral of the story was that she had enough guilt to deal with already, and she wasn't prepared to handle more.

The assortment of emotions that were swirling around in her body now were bothersome, too. She hated feeling like this. Like she could trust no one, like she had to protect herself, her friends, _everyone_, at the cost of being indifferent toward those she had once considered friends but pretending like everything was fine. But how do you deal with any of this? How do you protect those you love from evil and death when those very things are so closely intertwined in your life? When those very things are caused by the former friends?

She sure as hell had no idea how to handle it. And that was why she clung to the very few, very rare certainties in her life.

Certainty number one- enhancing her powers made everyone else safer.

And that was where she would start.

"Good afternoon, Bonnie."

Certainty number two- Damon was always out to make her life more difficult.

She didn't look his way, but she could feel his presence coming up behind her.

"What do you want, Damon?" she said, but without her usual venom. She still remembered their deal.

"Just to observe my favorite witch study up for her Harry Potter quiz," Damon replied, and she could hear his smirk through his words.

"What I do has _nothing_ to do with Harry Potter," she told him, and, still without glancing at him, she took a book from the case and shoved it into where she knew his chest was. As she hoped, he held it for her as she moved to her right, further along the row of books. "And I can't exactly focus with someone standing over my shoulder."

"Especially if that someone was as distractingly handsome as myself."

Just as he ended the sentence, Bonnie bumped into him, for he had sped to her side as she had been walking. Bonnie finally made eye contact with him, despite herself. He was holding her book flat against him, grinning faux-endearingly. She rolled her eyes, sighing.

"You're not going to leave me alone, are you?"

"Nope." Still with that grin on his face.

"Fine. Just don't get in my way. Please." The last word said with barely-concealed attitude.

With that, she pivoted on her heel, marching to the opposite end of the room. Damon followed, but at a respectable distance. Bonnie grabbed several things around the room- another book, an envelope, an empty jar, and a small bag full of powder from the backpack she brought over.

She moved to the center of the room. Damon stepped to get closer, but she held up a hand.

"You'll want to keep your distance," she said. Damon looked skeptical but stayed where he was.

She knelt, pouring the powder on the floor in one pile before her. She opened the book to a specific page, set the other one down next to it, and then reached into her back pocket for her lighter. Holding the envelope in front of her, she lit the corner of it on fire. The flame blossomed, crawling up the paper as Bonnie stood upright, watching the paper turn to ash and fall onto the top of the pile of powder. Soon, the whole envelope was engulfed in flames, wisps of smoke curling and dissolving into the air around her head. The glow from the flame was unnaturally bright, enough to make Damon wince from where he was standing. Bonnie did not so much as flinch.

She began to recite the spell, softly at first.

"Permito ad

Her voice rose as the spell continued. She began to feel the power flood through her, winding through her veins and swarming throughout her body. Often, magic feels like when you get hit by a wave of ocean water, only you can't allow yourself to waver, even a bit, as the force hits you. You have to stand perfectly still, absorbing it, enabling it to flow through you instead of over you. And then, once you have gathered the wave in your core, you have to center and expel it, applying it to the deed that you need done.

Those were for the nice spells, though. Sometimes, magic felt like fire lighting under her skin, or like ice-cold needles in her heart, or like an insurmountable pressure ready to erupt. Sometimes, magic was dangerous, but she could not allow it to become a danger to everyone else. She could only allow it to be a danger to herself.

Luckily, this spell was on the simpler side. She felt a mild migraine forming in her head, but that was nothing new. Migraines she could handle.

The air, stale and smokey, began to whirl around her body, tussling her hair and brushing her face. Then, just as the sudden breeze seemed friendly, it turned into a tornado in strength, but only for a moment. All the while, Bonnie was watching Damon, whose expression turned from casual interest, to fascination, to fear. He only let it show for a millisecond; he hid it well under the furrow of his brow. But she saw it. And it made her smile.

_About time he started taking me seriously, _she thought._ Even after seeing me practice my magic time and time again, he has no idea what I can do. I'd rather keep it that way, but every now and then it's nice to see he at least acknowledges my power._

The tornado ceased, just as swiftly as it came.

Strewn book pages began to flutter back down to the floor, and the entire room seemed to relax. Except for Damon.

"What was that spell for?" he asked, trying to just sound curious. She knew better.

"Why don't you come here and find out?" Bonnie said, smirking. He hesitated, looking around for some threat to assault him while he was unaware. When he found none, he looked to Bonnie again, and slowly approached her.

He was a foot away from her when he stopped. Unimpressed, he shrugged.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Bon, but I don't think it worked."

"Try to touch me," she said, meeting his eyes. Surprised at the request (in retrospect, it must've sounded odd), Damon quirked a brow. He raised a hand and went to touch her face. For some reason, Bonnie didn't expect him to try to touch her _there_, and she almost jerked back out of instinct. Stifling the urge, she reasoned that she really didn't know where else she expected him to reach out to.

Roughly seven inches from her face, Damon's hand halted, as if it hit something solid. Intrigued, he tried harder to move it forward, to no avail. It was as though an invisible wall was between them. He continued to slide his hand along the unseen shield, trying to find a place of weakness. As he did so, Bonnie tried to resist squirming. Even though he wasn't touching her, he was _very _close, and it made her uncomfortable. It was hard to turn off her body's anticipatory chemical reactions to even an almost-touch. It was also difficult to stop imagining him actually touching her- that was what she was most unnerved by. It wasn't that she _wanted _to imagine it; it's just sort of second nature to expect that someone was going to touch you when their hand was _that _close, and when you expect something, you anticipate it, which includes picturing it, until it happens.

It didn't help that the force field encircled her entire body, so Damon proceeded to walk around her to inspect it.

"Nice," he said. "Especially strong around the neck. To ward off those pesky vampires."

She could only just barely smother a shudder as she felt his hand touch the back of her neck- or, rather, the area just beyond the back of her neck. Bonnie didn't like him being behind her one bit, but she kept herself still.

"It's alright, I guess," he continued, facing her again, to her relief. "But it's pretty useless unless it moves with you."

At this challenge, Bonnie scoffed.

"Of course it can."

"Prove it." Damon raised his hand, palm toward Bonnie, fingers pointed to the ceiling. Without pause, Bonnie placed her hand flat against his, her force field pushing him back slightly, so there was still space between them. She held his stare, daring him to question her again. Which he did.

"How long does it last?"

"One hour."

"Not that much time."

"It's enough."

"Can you use it on other people?"

"Yes, of course."

"How much energy did it take?"

This caught her off guard. She faltered, and resisted the urge to pull her hand back.

"What?"

"You heard me. How much did it take out of you?"

"I don't get what you're-.."

"Oh, stop being stupid. I'm asking how you're feeling, witch."

Suddenly, she found it hard to look him in the eye. The only thing keeping her from averting her gaze was an astonishing discovery- the spark of fear in his eyes that she had seen during the spell, it was there again. Upon seeing that, realization jumped into her head without warning.

_He wasn't afraid _of _me earlier, when he saw me performing the spell. He was afraid _for _me. _

It made sense. Damon had seen, firsthand, how magic exhausted and threatened her. He had expressed worry over her magic overwhelming her before, during the Klaus-possessing-Alaric debacle. Still, she wasn't used a Damon who showed concern, especially in regards to her, so she tried to dismiss it.

"I'm feeling fine," she said, emotion gone from her voice. "Perfectly fine."

Damon seemed unconvinced as he nodded, looking her up and down.

"If you say so," he said, his obvious skepticism irking her. Shrugging, he turned to leave. Bonnie opened her mouth to say something biting, but she had nothing, so she just rolled her eyes with a huff. Trying to forget everything that just occurred, she started to collect the remaining ash and powder into her jar, when she heard Damon's voice chime from the doorway.

"Oh, by the way, Bonnie? I'm having some drinks tonight, and I don't necessarily want to get drunk alone- though, granted, that hasn't stopped me before. But the 'nice' thing to do would be for you to join me, you know."

Bonnie blinked up at him, at a loss for a response. Of all things, she had not seen that coming. Before she could even judge whether or not he was just messing around, he answered for her.

"Nah, nevermind, you look tired anyway," he said, and irritation flared within her at the insinuation. "But just keep it in mind, ok?" With a tap on the doorframe, he was gone, leaving her to fume silently.

Drinking with Damon.

_That_ was certainly not going to end well.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: Sorry for the delay in this chapter! I hope you all like it. It's kinda short, but I don't want to jump into things too quickly. I want it to be realistic and slow, but at the same time, every moment being important. I especially liked writing this because I wasn't even planning on her casting a spell in front of Damon, but as I was writing, it seemed natural, and then every other moment flowed from that. I love it when that happens.

In any case, you'll probably notice that I altered the plotline of the show a bit for this story. Basically, the last half of the season 3 didn't happen, and Stefan broke his Compulsion. Klaus is still at large. Those are the basics that I've hashed out. More will be revealed as the story progresses.

Something to mention- almost all the chapters will be the titles of Imogen Heap songs, because I'm absolutely obsessed with her and she is perfect. I HIGHLY recommend listening to the songs that I name in the titles, for they usually have something to do with the chapter itself. Again, hope you all like this!


End file.
